


Rebel Rescue

by TracyLorde



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oneshot, Star Wars AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TracyLorde/pseuds/TracyLorde
Summary: Tumblr prompt: "I was thinking AU: Star Wars, where Clarke is Princess Leia and Bellamy is Han Solo. The letting her out of the jailcell scene jumps to my mind but there might be better ones."





	Rebel Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I had to fudge some things here, but wow this was fun, thank you so much for the prompt @sly2o! Brief notes: since the Skywalker family relationships are at the core of the SW universe, this obviously breaks down completely if you squint. However, Bravenlarke is my all time favorite OT3 so here I go anyway :)

_This was it,_ Clarke thought, _this was the end._

As soon as she had been taken prisoner, she had known there was a pretty good chance she wasn’t going to make it off the Death Star. That hadn’t changed her attitude in the slightest. Even with the promise of execution hanging over her head, she’d stood with shoulders squared and chin upraised. When Lord Cadogen had towered over her, demanding that she tell him where the rebel base was located, she had refused . She had resisted every form of torture they’d thrown at her for so long. She knew that the future of the Rebellion was in her hands. But when Cadogan had threatened her peaceful home planet of Arkadia—her people, her family—she’d cracked. And it hadn’t mattered at all. They were gone, all gone. And now the Rebel base was next.

Back in her cell, Clarke had mourned for a time, but her pain had only reinforced her resolution to keep her head up. She was waiting for her own termination now, but she was damned if she’d go with without a final show of defiance. She would maintain the dignity of a senator and a princess despite it all.

Clarke was resting on her bed, close to sleep for the first time in days, when suddenly the door to her cell opened. A figure in the garb of an imperial soldier lurched through the doorway, stopping dead at the sight of her.

She half rose up on one elbow, tilting her head curiously. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?”

“Huh?” The figure replied, and then the helmet came off revealing the face of a beautiful young woman with long brown hair and bright eyes. “I’m Raven Reyes, I’m here to rescue you!”

“You’re who?” Clarke asked, standing up slowly, not quite comprehending.

“Raven Reyes, I’ve got your R2 unit, I’m here with Thelonius Jaha-“

Clarke leapt up and grabbed the woman’s arm. “Thelonius Jaha! Where is he?”

Raven took her hand in lieu of a response and together they bolted from the cell. Clarke heard blasters firing as soon as they entered the corridor. She and Raven headed towards the exit, but another stormtrooper imposter, also helmet-less, was running backwards towards them, firing down the hallway at will. This one was taller, with dark tousled hair and he was yelling at them, “Get behind me!”

They complied and bolted around a corner, Raven holding her blaster ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. The dark haired man turned to them, tipping his head toward the exit and barely making eye contact. “Can’t get out that way.”

“Looks like you’ve managed to cut off our only escape route,” Clarke snapped, keeping her eyes fixed on the door opposite them, hoping against hope she could find a weapon before she had to face any actual stormtroopers.

The man turned back to her, responding with biting sarcasm and an admirably steady voice. “Perhaps you’d prefer to be back in your cell, your highness.”

Clarke’s retort was preempted by a fresh onslaught of enemy fire. All three of them ducked, Raven trying to keep Clarke behind her while still keeping aim. They backed down the corridor, and found temporary cover in a niche behind a doorway, Raven and Clarke on one side of the passageway and Raven’s companion on the other.

Raven was fiddling with a handheld comm, yelling into it, “Goddammit, Monty, can’t you find another way out?”

“All information appears to be restricted.” The voice over the comm rang out all too clear to Clarke’s ears.

Clarke winced as the fire shot past her.

“I can’t hold ‘em off forever,” the tall man opposite her shouted at Raven, “Now what?”

“Some rescue!” Clarke shouted back, brushing a stray hair from her face, “You didn’t think you might need an escape plan?”

“I’m just the pilot, she’s the brains, princess!” He yelled back, tipping his head towards Raven as he fired another deadly shot into the ranks of the enemy who were slowly making their way towards them.

Clarke made a decision in that instant—she was was getting another chance at survival, and she damn sure wasn’t going to let a phony stormtrooper waste it for her. She grabbed Raven’s gun and fired a single shot into the grate across the passageway, just to the left of the tall man’s knee.

“What the hell are you doing?” Raven and her companion yelled simultaneously.

Clarke was way ahead of them. Aiming the barrel of the blaster at the nearest stormtrooper, she covered herself as she crossed to the other side of the hallway, “ _Someone’s_ got to save our skins!”

She gestured into the hole she’d just created, and tossed the gun back to Raven. “Into the garbage chute, flyboy!” she yelled at her unknown rescuer, and dove in first. Behind her she could hear the continuation of heavy fire, but she forgot all about that once she landed in the mess that was waiting for her.

It smelled truly awful, a mix of organic and mechanical waste, and it nearly reached her hips, the indeterminate liquid soaking through her white robes. Clarke immediately began to scale the nearest pile of trash that seemed somewhat solid. She heard a loud crash and a groan behind her, and turned to see Raven, and then the pilot expelled from the chute. She was glad no one had been present to see her own less than graceful landing.

“A garbage chute, what a really wonderful idea,” the pilot mused in a mocking tone, “What an absolutely amazing smell you’ve discovered.” He was attempting to wipe his damp hair from his forehead with a very dirty glove. Clarke was tempted to laugh, until she thought that she probably looked nearly as bad.

“Get away from that door!” the pilot called to Raven, who was attempting to open the only accessible exit.

“Wait, Bellamy,” Raven cried, but she leapt back, and her partner began to fire away. The shots reverberated around the interior of the space, blasting Clarke’s eardrums and making her head ring.

“Would you forget it?” Raven practically screamed, “I already tried that, the door’s magnetically sealed!”

“Put that away!” Clarke bellowed, “You’re going to get us all killed!”

The pilot, Bellamy, turned back to her. “Absolutely, your highness.” His face was contorted with derision. “You know, I had everything under control up there, it was _your_ idea to jump down the garbage chute!” He was scanning the inside of the confinement now, looking for any other way out. “It’s not going to take a genius to figure out we ended up here.”

“It could be worse,” Clarke replied, attempting to shift a pile of garbage that had somehow seemed to move towards her. Then, they all heard it. A low, crushing, metallic sound.

“I think it just got worse,” Bellamy muttered, his eyes never staying in one place too long. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

He was right. The walls began closing in, it wasn’t just their imagination. Slowly, but surely, the level of the refuse rose as two side of the chamber began to slide towards each other.

Clarke sprang into action. “Help me!” she yelled, as she reached for a long metal beam that she had spied earlier. With Raven’s and Bellamy’s help, she hoisted it up over her head and tried to align in with a niche on each of the contracting walls. The horrifying scraping sound became more intense.

Raven turned back to her comm. “Monty, come in Monty!” Her voice was angry and desperate.

Sweat dripped down Clarke’s forehead and into her eyes. She didn’t dare switch her position, lest she lose her grasp on the beam. The walls continued to slide inward, metal bar not withstanding.

“Monty, where the fuck are you? Monty!”

Clarke couldn’t hold on any longer—the sliding mass had shifted the placement of her feet and she began to fall. Bellamy grabbed her hips and tried to steady her.

“Get on top of that,” he commanded gruffly, lifting her towards the nearest pile of garbage.”

“I’m trying!” Clarke attempted to swat his hands away, but she soon realized without his support she’d end up buried, and allowed him to help her.

“Wonderful girl,” Bellamy called over to Raven, “Either I’m going to kill her or I’m beginning to like her!”

The comm in Raven’s hand buzzed back finally, and she almost dropped it in her frenzy.

_“Are you there, Reyes?”_

“Monty?!” Raven practically screeched.

_“I ran into a few problems on my end—“_

“Monty, listen to me, you’ve got to shut down all the garbage compactors on the detention level, you hear me?”

Clarke was slipping again, but she braced herself against the wall, leveraging her weight in vain against the impending mass. Bellamy had fallen back, and was now merely looking up a her with a partly awed, partly indignant expression.

“ _Monty_! Come in Monty! Do you read me? All the garbage compactors on the detention level!”

The walls were now less than six feet apart. Raven’s voice died into the background. Clarke found herself looking into the dark brown eyes opposite hers. She wondered if, given another chance in another life, the princess and the pilot would have gotten along better. She took a deep breath, and braced herself.

Suddenly, everything screeched to a halt.

_“Raven, Bellamy, are you there? Raven!”_

Raven cheered so loudly Clarke couldn’t help but laugh.

“Monty, you did it!”

“That son of bitch,” Bellamy chuckled, shaking slightly as he got to his feet again.

Clarke could barely believe it. She gasped, and before she realized it Bellamy had lunged for her and caught her in his arms. They were both covered in grime and sweat, but damn if it didn’t feel good to be alive.

 _Well fuck,_ Clarke thought, leaning into him for the briefest of moments, adrenaline coursing through her veins, _I could get use to this._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr!](https://tracylorde.tumblr.com)


End file.
